


Smallville Ficlets

by SelenaEstella



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Nudity, Pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short sentence prompts, featuring our two favourite characters in various situations. Done mostly as writing exercises. Tags account for the fic as a whole; individual warnings are inside. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Please put me down it’s just a sprained ankle"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt taken from [this post](http://toxixpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/108022477839/ridiculous-sentence-prompts).
> 
> Light angst here. Very, _very_ light, mind you.

“Clark,” said Lex, as his boyfriend gently, very gently, eased open the heavy wooden door and stepped carefully into the library. “Clark, I can walk you know.” Paying Lex no attention, Clark walked slowly and smoothly to the big leather couch and lowered Lex gingerly down onto it.

“ _Clark_ ,” Lex stressed, as warm hands took his leg and propped it on a cushion on the coffee table, “I  _sprained_ my  _ankle_.”

Clark looked up from where he was kneeling on the floor, eyes wide and aching, and Lex mentally prepared himself for what would follow.

“But it was  _my fault_ ,” Clark said, kicked-puppy look on full force. Lex sighed and glanced away for a moment, gathering his limited supply of patience.

“None-superpowered people do much worse to each other by accident,” he assured Clark. Now for the compliment. “For what it’s worth, you clearly have excellent control considering you caught me before I even hit the ground.”

“Lex-” Clark tried. Lex didn’t let him.

“And swept me off my feet like a gallant knight to his blushing maiden,” he added dryly. Clark looked away for a moment, a slight smile threatening to break his heartbroken expression. What Clark would look like if his heart was  _actually_ broken wasn’t something Lex cared to think about.

“Well, since I can assume that I won’t be walking for the rest of the day," he said, eyebrow raised, "think you can do me a couple of favours?”

Clark perked up instantly and got to his feet, smile lighting up his face. “Yeah?”

 _I love you so damn much_ , Lex thought. It never ceased to amaze him.

“I need my laptop,” he began, after gathering his thoughts, “a bottle of water, a cup of coffee, and a plate of those cookies your mom baked. Can you–?” Clark was gone and back again before Lex could finish speaking. He felt a smile tug at his lips at the sight of Clark balancing all five things.

“Anything else?” Clark asked, setting his load next to Lex’s foot and spreading it all out a little.

“Yeah,” said Lex, putting his other leg up on the coffee table and pointing to the space by his side, “get your ass down here.”

Clark was happy to oblige.


	2. “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! From the same list as last time. No warnings~

The distant sound of mewing was the first thing to greet Lex when he arrived home at the penthouse that afternoon. Curious and concerned, he followed the noise into the pantry, where he found the source. And Clark.

Somehow, he wasn’t all that surprised.

Clark was crouching over something, ass in full view, and saying little nonsense phrases people usually use when addressing babies and small children. Lex waited for a moment, leaning against the doorway and admiring his husband’s behind, before realising Clark was too engrossed to notice him and loudly cleared his throat.

Clark span around, sheepish look on his face and giving the distinct impression he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. Behind him Lex could just about make out what appeared to be a convulsing mass of fur, in various colours and shades. “Would you care to explain?” Lex asked, gesturing. He wasn't angry. He just didn't like secrets.

“Uh,” Clark began. Lex had tried and tried to teach him eloquence and yet Clark Kent continued to knot his own tongue. “I may have… accidentally… sort of adopted five cats?”

Lex blinked for a moment and said nothing. Just raised an eyebrow.

“Well I was patrolling,” Clark hurried to explain, “y'know, as Superman, and it was pretty quiet, and then I heard something in pain coming from an alleyway close by–”

“So you investigated, as you do,” Lex cut in, moving forward a little to observe the… cats, “and you found… these?”

“The mother had just given birth!” Clark protested, clearly forgetting that Lex  _hadn’t_  grown up on a farm and that the mental picture Clark offered was not one he’d ever wanted to see. “They’re strays–I looked for a chip and everything–but in pretty good shape. And I… I thought…”

Clark ducked his head, blush rising to his cheeks. The pile of kittens continued to mewl softly behind him, motherly chirrups cutting in every now and then.

“‘You thought’?” Lex prompted. Clark licked his lips and looked up again, earnest expression on his face.

“Well… that, uh, becausewe'remarriednowwecouldusesomesortof… pet?”

Lex blinked some more. He smiled ever so slightly. “Come again?”

“Well… it’s a family thing.” Clark was clearly struggling for words. Half-listening, Lex walked over and crouched in front of the furry tangle of creatures. Hygiene risk aside (the pantry, Clark?  _Really?_ ) they were… they were pretty cute. Like fluffy jellybeans. The mother wasn’t looking so happy though, regarding Lex with what could only be distrust.

“I thought, because, we’re a family now, we could have a family pet?" Clark started to speed up. "Or, uh, pets in this case, I mean it’s not like we don’t have room–”

“They need a vet checkup,” Lex cut in. One of the tiny bundles, black with patches of red, had caught his attention. “And a proper place to live. And,” he said, turning to Clark and finding him wide-eyed with amazement, “you’re going to have to tell me what to do, because I have never had a cat in my life before.”

A broad smile spread across Clark’s face. “Of course!” He darted in for a quick kiss before looking back down at the kittens with open adoration. “We have to pick names for them all… I was thinking--”

“First,” Lex said firmly, “we can move them to a better location before the housekeeper has a heart attack.”


	3. “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOMEWHAT NSFW!! Non-explicit nudity, implied/referenced sex, that sort of thing. Again, same list as the first. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, to clarify, Clark is legal in this (but his age isn't specified).

Clark woke up to the sound of birds just outside the window. With a happy groan, he stretched himself out in the big, warm, luxurious bed, over the softest sheets he’d ever felt, toasty and content.

As his brain shook off the sleepy bliss, however, Clark started to feel like something wasn't quite right. Something wasn't adding up. Something was... missing. No, actually, some _one_ was missing. There were two pillows, and Clark had very, er, defined memories of having company last night.

With a huge yawn, Clark sat up and rubbed his face, blinking as he looked around the room. It was not his room. His room had much less purple and definitely no four-poster bed. To be honest, he hadn't even been totally sure he could wake up here. Clark wasn’t freaking out though–-he felt way too good for that.

Before he could do anything other than yawn again and look around some more, a door–-not the one that led to the hall but a smaller one to the right–-swung open. And in came Lex.

He swaggered into the room, drying his hands on a small white towel and looking incredibly pleased with himself. Lex was also completely naked. So was Clark, come to think of it, but he wasn’t really focusing on himself.

Lex must’ve noticed Clark’s strangled squeaking sound because he looked up, bathed in early-morning sunlight and absolutely gorgeous, small droplets of water glittering like diamonds beneath the light. And somehow, as his eyes trailed over the shape of Clark’s body beneath the sheets, his smugness only intensified.

“Sleep well?” Lex asked lazily, strolling to to stand at the foot of the bed. Clark tried to look at his face, he really did, but his eyes just kept on darting downwards. He felt a little too hot under the $1000 covers. It wasn’t that last night was missing or muddled–-in fact it stood out with astonishing clarity, like wow–-but now that the heady haze of lust had worn off, Clark found himself flailing beneath the knowledge that--holy cow--he’d had  _sex_.

With  _Lex_.

Who was still talking, Clark realised, but he had mostly given up on paying attention to Lex’s face and was staring at something else instead. Yeah, uh, he had gotten pretty familiar with that… part of Lex last night. Clark shifted his legs beneath the covers and thought his cheeks might be on fire.

Painfully scraping together the last scraps of his resolve, Clark swallowed a couple of times and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment.

“I’m gonna need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else,” Clark forced out. Lex paused in whatever he was saying, a look of mild surprise on his face. He looked down as if well, would you look at that! He  _was_ rather exposed wasn’t he? Hips swaying far more than was necessary Lex crossed to an old oak chest of draws and began digging around inside.

“Only underwear?” he asked mildly, straightening up with a pair of small, black, and no doubt  _tight_  briefs in his hand and turning to lean back against the draws, chest out, hips forward.

Clark ran his eyes over Lex’s body. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before Clark had to swallow again. “Only underwear,” he said.


	4. “I tried to parallel park and hit your car, do you want my details?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another one! No warnings here, other than it being very AU, with Clark and Lex never having talked one-on-one before and with Lex working for his father.
> 
> From [this list](http://buckleup-creampuff.tumblr.com/post/112146409400/aus-id-love-to-see) this time.

Clark eased his car into position on the busy street, frustration mounting as another motorist honked indignantly at him. He _had_ to go slowly, God dammit; it wasn't his fault the space was so small. If anything, it was the fault of the owner of the car in front, who seemed to have taken it upon himself to leave a good three feet of between between his flashy sports car and the BMW in the next space along.

God _dammit_. Lex Luthor, as Clark knew very well, had committed a number of atrocities alongside his father, and now Clark could add "asshole parking" to the list. Not that it came as much of a surprise--you could get away with a lot in Metropolis so long as you had the money, which was something Clark sought to change. People should be held responsible for their actions, no matter what their monetary wealth, and it wasn't just Superman who could help put an end to that. Every man had a duty, Clark Kent firmly believed, to do his bit to make life just that little bit better for everyone else. He did it, his father had done it, but the Luthors did not.

This interview, if he could get it,  _might_ be able to shed light on a few things, help take them down a peg. While approaching someone in the street or, in this case, a restaurant, wasn't really Clark's style, Lex rarely granted interviews to anyone who _didn't_ manage to ambush him. And, when someone did, Lex could occasionally be impressed enough to answer a question or two. Again, a case of what money could buy, and anyone who found a Luthor was clearly pretty dedicated.

Clark had reviewed his questions very carefully, and while he usually acted more... open? honest? ...Well, they'd be hard for Lex to wiggle out of, even if he was a Luthor. He could decline the interview, Clark supposed, and leave Clark by the curb, but if things went as planned...

_Screeeeeeeeeeech._

Oh.

 _Crap_.

He'd forgotten to look in the wing mirror.

-

The day was fresh, the wind was mild, and the air crisp and clear. Small clouds hurried across the blue expanse of autumn sky as, simultaneously, cars chased each other through the winding Metropolis streets.

Lex Luthor stepped onto the pavement from the doorway of his favourite restaurant. Hands buried in the pockets of his long black coat, he took a moment to enjoy the fresh air before beginning his stroll down the street.

His car was where he’d left it which, while not an uncommon occurrence, was always nice in Metropolis. What was an uncommon occurrence was the the rather harried looking young man standing beside it, glancing around self-consciously and checking his watch every few seconds.

Smoothing his expression, Lex ambled forward with a politely curious air, and more of the scene revealed itself as he walked. For one thing, the man looked particularly scruffy by Lex’s standards, dressed in an ill-fitting suit and wearing a rather unattractive pair of glasses. His dark hair was scraped back and he held a small notebook in one hand. He also seemed vaguely familiar.

A cheap, somewhat battered car was parked behind Lex’s sleek red Lamborghini, and a feeling of foreboding settled in his stomach.

“Can I help you?” Lex asked mildly. The man jumped and turned, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Uh…” Lex waited expectantly. “I-I think I dented your car when I parked, um, you can have my details?”

Lex regarded the man closely, lips pursed. This man had damaged Lex’s car. His Lamborghini, to be exact–-not a cheap one by any means. Moreover, from a very brief period of observation, it was very apparent that the man couldn’t afford a decent suit, let alone the amount of money that Lex could  _easily_ sue him for. And he had to have known who the car belonged to, since 'LEX L 1' was not found on any other licence plate in America.

And yet, the man had hung around afterwards and offered to give his details. Lex wasn’t sure to be impressed by this honesty or concerned; it was the sort of thing his father would refer to as ‘an extraordinary display of stupidity’. Lex was more on the fence about the matter.

While regarding the man closely, Lex also couldn’t help but notice that despite first impressions, the ugly frames were by no means a reflection of the face beneath them. And the feeling of familiarity grew the longer he took in the full lips, strong jaw, well defined cheekbones and deep green eyes.

The man shifted under Lex’s scrutiny, dropping his gaze and fidgeting.

“Who are you exactly?” Lex asked.

“Clark Kent. Of the Daily Planet.” The last part was obviously added out of habit, and Lex suddenly realised why he recognised him. It really should have struck him sooner–-Clark Kent practically tailed him, and his articles were impressive, for all they were insulting.

“You were at the press conference last Thursday,” he said, smirking. Kent looked vaguely terrified. Lex remembered him being far more sure of himself among the flashing cameras and muttering crowd. Almost cocky, even. “You asked a… rather pointed question about LuthorCorp’s plans for the application of nuclear energy.”

Sweat was beading on Kent’s forehead despite the brisk wind. “Uh, a-about the car?” he stammered, gesturing with the notebook. “Do you want my insurance details?”

Lex gave Kent some thought. And another once-over. “…I’ll settle for your phone number,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought way too far into where this could go. I doubt I'll ever write it, so here's what could happen:
> 
> Clark and Lex starting hanging out together, going on 'dates', both because, primarily, they want to use the other (Lex: entertainment and connection to the press; Clark: insight into Luthorcorp), although there is some underlying attraction. However, it coincides with Lionel taking LuthorCorp in an even shadier, less ethical directions. Lex, who had already been having second thoughts, and wants to take over the company anyway, confides in Clark and, while they're still doing it for different reasons, they team up to take down Lionel while falling in love along the way. Aaaaaaaaw.


	5. “Caught you changing and you have wings bound to your back”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all guys, thanks for getting this fic over 100 hits!! To celebrate, here's a rather cliche Fallen Angel AU haha.
> 
>  **Warnings:** pain, angst, body mutilation (technically), somewhat dubious-morality Lex.
> 
> Genre: Hurt/comfort.
> 
> [This list](http://versegm.tumblr.com/post/118111903243/my-friend-is-secretly-a-mythical-creature-clich%C3%A9) this time.

"Clark…” Lex breathed, standing enraptured in the doorway as he stared in... horrified wonder.

Clark froze in the motion of taking off his t-shirt, eyes wide in fear, like a deer in the headlights.

Like an angel in the spotlight.

Slowly, barely aware of his own movement, Lex stepped closer, footsteps steady and light. Clark flinched away when he approached, suspicious and confused, but Lex wasn’t looking at his face. He circled Clark twice, oblivious to his friend’s distressed flinches and starts, and ran his hand down the pearly white feathers.

Bound by thick black straps in a way that just had to be painful, the wings were trapped cruelty against Clark’s back, folded and crushed into what had to be a third--no, less--of their natural size. Bones twisted, feathers cracked, every moment had to be pain…

Clark had been wearing a backpack.  _How on Earth_ …

Well. ‘How on Earth’ was a pretty good question.

“What are you doing?” Clark demanded, trying to sound threatening despite how much his voice shook. He glanced desperately at the door, ready to make a break for it, but before he could, Lex’s hands darted forward and he undid the straps.

He wasn’t ready for Clark’s scream, although he knew he should’ve expected it.

The wings unfolded, forced down by gravity with a series of sickening cracking sounds as the joints were released from their unnatural positions. At the same time Clark’s knees buckled, and Lex awoke from his trance. Shouting a curse he caught Clark in time to lower them both to the cold wooden floor, holding his friend close and furious at himself for being so stupid.

Clark was panting hard and his hands were forming bruises on Lex’s arms. He trembled, wings shuddering, and Lex watched mesmerised from over Clark's shoulder as the stunted, crooked things slumped against the floor, a few stray bent feathers drifting down. Many of the ones fully attached had been unevenly clipped, ends ragged and fraying.

“ _My God_ ,” Lex whispered. Clark’s gasping turned to a hysterical laugh.

“That’s what… I thought,” he choked. “Why didn’t they  _want me?_ ”

“What?” Lex asked, pulling back to look at Clark.

Clark’s head lolled. There were tears on his cheeks. His mouth twitched and twisted, unable to decide if it was a grimace or a smile.

“I was  _three_ ,” Clark sobbed, desperately, begging for answers that no one could give. “What-what did I  _do?_ ”

Oh.

“Clark–”

“No.  _No!_ ” Suddenly Clark shoved himself away, forcing himself to his feet while Lex reeled back in shock more than anything else. Clark looked wild, crazed… dangerous, in a way, but Lex was far from afraid.

“Do you know what they’ll do to me if they know?” Clark shouted, staggering where he stood but it seemed that most of the pain had past. His wings flared on instinct and his face twisted, but Clark stayed standing that time. Lex remained on the floor.

“Who, Clark?” Lex asked softly, carefully crossing his legs, opening up his posture to appear inviting and at ease. Clark swayed where he stood, poised to bolt at any second. How fast, Lex wondered, could Clark really run? Faster than any sports car that’s for sure.

And he should have been able to fly…

“The government. Edge. Your father,” Clark muttered fitfully, arms coming up to hug himself. His whole posture was different–legs bent, back hunched, on his toes and poised for flight. Slowly, very slowly, Lex got to his feet and approached with his hands held up placatingly.

“None of them are going to hurt you, Clark,” he said seriously, keeping eye contact as he walked steadily nearer. Clark backed up a little but hesitated before making a break for it. “I know now,” Lex continued, “and I will keep you safe.” Finally close enough, Lex cupped Clark’s face in his hands, earnest as he said, “you can trust me, Clark. I promise.” Meanwhile, his heart thudded hard in his chest.

Clark’s lip trembled. He sniffed, ducking his head, and Lex gave into the urge to gather him into a hug.

“It hurts,” Clark whispered, hands twisted in Lex’s shirt, face pressed to his shoulder. “It hurts all the time, Lex.” Lex brought one hand up, brushing soft down, and placed it lightly between Clark’s shoulder blades. Not rubbing. Not pressing. Not anything that might hurt. Just gentle pressure and, hopefully, reassurance.

“I know,” Lex murmured, tightening his grip a fraction. “But I’m going to make it better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This almost became an extensive angels-demons AU, but I'm restraining myself for now haha. If I ever do write more, though, I'll continue it in a separate fic.


	6. Doing the Laundry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a little while back, not for any particular prompt. I've been busy trying to write a Christmas fic lately, but I think it's time I updated this ficlet collection.
> 
> And in case I don't make it in time... Merry Christmas!!

These are not Clark’s underwear.

A frown slowly creases Martha’s brow as she stares down at the boxer briefs held gingerly between forefinger and thumb. She’s in the utilities room, kneeling in front of the washing machine with a half-empty laundry basket by her side, and everything had been business as usual until she found something which, clearly, does not belong.

The Kent family ‘unmentionables’ are strictly cotton, save maybe for some of the lingerie Martha has tucked away in the back of the closet and they haven’t seen daylight (or moonlight) in years. The Kent men wear boxer shorts, not briefs; anything… tighter hasn’t graced the washing machine since Clark grew out of the kids’ section. And, Martha realizes, rubbing the fabric ever so slightly and being careful not to touch it too much, no underwear in her house has never cost this much money.

Maybe they’re Pete’s, she reasons, a little desperately. Girls share underwear so boys probably do too. Except Martha’s pretty sure Mrs. Ross has never set eyes on anything like these either. The gleaming silk threads rather speak for themselves. Martha won’t risk searching for the brand label, if there even is one.

It doesn’t take Martha long to work out who, in Smallville, not only has the access to such clothing but will casually give it away. Although what her boy was doing which resulted in this foreign invader is something Martha would rather not think about.

As it is, they’ll have to wait a while and go in a separate wash, because Martha sees absolutely no reason so spoil such a pricey piece of clothing.

Particularly since her son is going to have to answer for it.


	7. "I’m afraid of flying (in a plane)" AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this on the plane to Venice! Thankfully though I was fine with the flight haha.
> 
> Prompt from [this list](http://tickatocka.tumblr.com/post/101530238776/airport-related-aus-tho-i-fell-asleep-on-your) of airport AUs.
> 
> The full prompt is 'i’m afraid of flying and you were incredibly helpful and tolerant and sweet about it au'; this fic isn't entitely faithful since Lex can rarely be described as 'incredibly sweet', but think of this as season 1 Lex who complimented Lana's incorrect coffee.
> 
> No warnings I can think of rn.

One of the pros of being a top reporter for the Daily Planet was that most travel actually became comfortable. No more cramped carriages or suspiciously stained taxi seats, no more run-down restaurants with barely-edible food, and no more crummy hotels that could’ve charged by the hour. Gone were the desperate days of a post-graduate journalist--Clark could now travel in comfort and style.

Which would be great if he wasn’t on _an aeroplane_.

Business-class seats didn’t disguise the fact that Clark was miles in the air, _in a glorified tin can_. It was fine, he thought distractedly, twiddling his thumbs and trying to stare  _at_ the floor rather than _through it_ , when he was flying by himself. When he was in control. But here? He just had to trust in physics, the strength of a flimsy metal, and the flight skills of a couple of total strangers.

Every childhood fear of heights came flooding back, and Clark had the ‘fortune’ to have gotten a _window_ seat.

He could manage a few scant seconds of calm by staring fixedly _through_ the window and surrounding wall, and imagining that he was out there, flying, soaring through the sky with the wind cool on his face and the clouds damp in his hair…

...except the seat belt dug into him and the cabin air was dry and stale and there were _people_ talking all around him while Clark was so often alone in the sky.

There was a long list of movies he could watch on the little TV in front of him, but distractions were useless. He had one on for show but wasn’t watching it at all, trying to control his sight instead and not see _through_ his hands when he pressed them over his eyes.

At least he had legroom, Clark thought despairingly, as the dark cut away to the bones of his hands and then through to the floor and the layers of metal below. At least he could fidget miserably without driving his neighbour nuts…

“Excuse me?” Oh boy. Clark looked up, expecting a flight attendant asking if he wanted peanuts. He was taken aback to discover that the man next to him had removed his sleeping eye-mask thing and was leaning over, looking amused but also vaguely concerned.

“You’re not going to puke, are you?” he asked, while Clark blinked in confusion and rubbed his eyes. The man’s suit was crisp and perfectly cut, and without even a trace of wear. His eyes were a clear grey-blue, bright despite the shadows made by travel, and his hair… well, he didn’t have any--not even the slightest trace of a follicle, actually.

“Um, no,” said Clark, shaking himself a little.”I’m just… I’m not keen on flying.”

The man smiled crookedly in sympathy. “Me neither,” he said, then leaned back and extended his hand. Clark took it automatically and fought the urge to squeeze too hard. The man’s palm was dry and cool; grounding. It was good to have some human contact.

“I’m Lex,” said the man, exempting his surname.

“Clark,” said Clark, doing the same. They finished shaking hands and settled back into their chairs, Lex adjusting the arms of his so that he could talk to Clark more comfortably.

“Daily Planet, right?” Lex’s eyes were fixed on his chest, where Clark’s tag proudly proclaimed his name and business. Oh yeah.

“Uh, yes.” Clark adjusted his glasses, having knocked them crooked. “I’m going to Caracas--I’ll be covering the conference.”

“Which I’m going to be speaking at,” said Lex, smirking, “I look forward to seeing you there.”

 _But hopefully not at the afterparty_ , Clark thought. An important-if-mind-numbing conversation between business moguls wasn’t the only reason for Clark’s visit, although it was his excuse. Maybe one day somebody would notice how wherever Clark Kent went, Superman chose to follow, but for now, it made for pretty good cover.

Just a shame about the travel arrangements...

“I read your work,” Lex continued. If he noticed Clark’s discomfort he declined to comment on it. “You’re good. Very honest, even if the truth isn’t what people always want to hear.”

Clark shifted in his chair, choosing his words. “I… can’t say I expected a compliment from _this_ part of the plane,” he said eventually, which earned him a laugh. “It’s true,” Clark continued, nodding, “I don’t hold back. But, I think it’s important. Somebody has to be saying these things.” It was his aim as a journalist after all--to bring truths to light, and to keep people honest.

“Reasonable,” said Lex, fixing Clark with a calculating gaze. “Although maybe people don’t want to hear things because they don’t need to. Who are you to decide what the public does or does not know?”

“Yes, but…” Clark trailed off, realising there wasn’t much he could say that wouldn’t start an argument, and his nerves were still way too frayed for that especially in such an _enclosed_ space. Lex thought he had won though and was radiating smugness. Jerk. Clark opened his mouth to change the subject but before he could, a _ding!_ came over the in-flight speakers and a gentle female voice cut in.

“For the comfort of passengers, we will now be turning the lights down,” she said. The sickly yellow faded and was replaced by a gloomy blue. Lex appeared pleasantly surprised and wasted no time in putting his mask back on and reclining in his chair. Effectively having got the last word, he no longer seemed interested in talking to Clark.

Alright then. Sleep. Clark clasped his hands together and tried desperately not to start shuffling his feet. He felt like a-a fish caught in a tin can, being shaken around by the tide. He was in his element but he wasn’t in control and it... scared him. Just a bit.

Lex was snoring gently to his right and after a second’s thought, Clark carefully lowered his seat, pulled the flimsy blanket over himself, and closed his eyes. He could pretend to rest, at least, maybe try a few meditation techniques he'd heard about. Concentrating on his breathing, Clark forced his body to relax and slow down. His breathing deepened and evened out. His heartbeat became steady, if still rather hard against his sternum. Without even realising, Clark started to drift off.

Dark. Tight. Shaking, the world trembling violently around him. Tumbling, whirling, spiraling down, a fist in his stomach dragging his gut and if only he was free and could fly he would be safe but walls press like a coffin and the ground rises beyond the metal cage to crush him while all the while the distant roar grows louder by the second as he struggles desperately in a last bid to escape--

"Sir? Sir!"

"Clark!"

_Slap._

Clark woke up with a start, gasping, heart pounding. He blinked back the muddles dregs of his nightmare and looked up, disorientated, to find that the continuing roar was from an aeroplane engine, and he was safe inside.

Oh. Yeah. Conference, news, reporter. All that. He released his grip on the arms of his chair and winced as plastic crackled.

An air hostess as standing in the aisle, biting her lip and holding a cup of water out to him. Beside him, though, the man--Lex--was kneeling on the floor, rubbing his right hand absently while frowning at Clark in concern.

"You ok?" he asked. Clark swallowed a couple of times and sat up, accepting the cup of water and taking a sip, mostly to buy himself some time.

"Yeah," Clark said eventually, still feeling a little rattled. "Yeah, just... a nightmare, flying you know."

Lex's expression changed ever so slightly, and after a moment Clark recognised it as the sort of look people get whenever they care about something, care quite a lot in fact, but are trying to play it off as little more than casual interest--like whenever Pete had a new crush but was trying very hard not to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lex asked and he sounded, like Clark had expected, as if he didn't really _care_ about the answer at all, oh no, he was just saying it to be polite.

Sincere or not, Clark shook his head. "No thanks." There wasn't really any way of explaining how he'd been sent to Earth in an enclosed capsule as a small child and gained enough experience in hurtling uncontrollably onto the surface of a foreign planet to develop an intense dislike of heights and flying. "I appreciate the offer though," Clark added, trying to dab the sweat off his forehead inconspicuously and... probably failing.

"No problem," Lex said flippantly, getting to his feet and then adding, "are you sure you're ok?" Lex regarded Clark closely, and Clark calmly met the searching gaze. He was fine, really, just a little shaken up still, and not at all looking forward to the rest of the flight since apparently even sleep wouldn't offer an escape.

"It was just a bad dream," Clark assured Lex, settling back into his seat a little. Lex stared for a second longer before smiling tightly in a 'suit yourself' sort of way and going back to his seat. The air hostess had disappeared, and Clark sighed quietly, fixing his eyes on the small screen in front of him, resigned to another four hours or so of anxiety and boredom. All without a wink of sleep.

"So. Kansas, right?" Lex said suddenly.

Clark looked over, eyebrows jumping upwards in surprise, and found Lex leaning over the arm of his chair again, smirking.

"Yeah," said Clark, "yeah, how could you...?"

"Your accent," Lex told him smugly. "Where in Kansas, exactly?"

They talked. Clark said a bit about Smallville, not expecting much interest, but as it turned out Lex was genuinely curious about the little town Clark had grown up in... or at least, good at pretending to be. Lex himself had been born in Metropolis, but had traveled around a lot, first as a kid accompanying his father, and now as an adult on his own business ventures. A shadow seemed to cross behind Lex's eyes whenever he mentioned his mother, so Clark steered the conversation to more recent trips, including the one they were on now.

And then Lex jokingly mentioned a comic book convention he'd wanted to go to instead of some boring talk in Venezuela, and that got them deep into discussing Warrior Angel. Clark was just getting more into itt after spending a few years reading casually, but to turned out Lex was a pretty serious fan. It always amused Clark a little just how close readers were to a real life superhero whenever they talked to him, but thankfully the topic stayed away from Superman without Clark's intervention--in fact it never changed at all. Warrior Angel lasted until the seatbelt signed pinged back on and the plane was ready to land.

They walked side-by-side through the airport, conversation trailing off now that they were out of time to kill. Clark's heart squeezed a little and it had nothing to do with heights--Lex was nice; talking hadn't just been a way to pass the time, and Clark hadn't  _clicked_ with something like that since... Well. It had been a long time.

A private entourage was awaiting Lex at baggage collection, so he and Clark made their goodbyes. Just as Lex turned away, however, Clark thought he caught a second's glimpse of sadness in his eyes.

"Wait a sec!" Clark hastily dug around in his inside pocket. Surely he had at least one...

"Hm?" Lex turned back around in a casual sweep, fluid and precise, just as Clark managed to produce a battered business card, the last of many he'd either given out or lost.

"This has my cellphone number," he awkwardly began, as Lex reached out and hesitantly took the card, regarding it dubiously. "I was thinking..." Clark felt suddenly nervous. It had been ages since he'd done this. Especially with a guy. "...If, after the conference or something... you wanted to, uh... have lunch sometime?"

Lex was staring at the card as he turned it over and over in his hands, face completely blank. Heart beating hard by the second, Clark smoothed down his hair in a nervous gesture and struggled to fill the silence. "I-I mean," he stammered, "i-if you don't want to..." Lex didn't react and Clark trailed off, hands dropping to his sides.

Finally, Lex looked up, face still completely unreadable as he felt cover the corners of the card with his fingertips.

"Sure," said Lex, so completely impassive that Clark didn't even understand him at first. "I'll call you tonight. We'll have dinner at... I'll arrange something." The mask cracked ever so slightly, and Clark instantly felt more at ease: there was the man he's talked to on the plane.

He beamed at Lex, happy and relieved. "Great!"

Cautiously, Lex smiled back as he pocketed the card. He scrutinised Clark as he held out his hand to shake, but to Clark's delight, Lex took his hand in both of his.

"I'll call," Lex said again, and it sounded more like a promise. His eyes continued to bore into Clark's even as he let go and stepped back, but at least Clark was getting used to it. Hopefully Lex wouldn't spend the whole meal like that.

"Great," said Clark, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep from fiddling. "Great, I'm looking forward to it!"

"So am I," said Lex, and was he... surprised? Just a little, Clark thought. Lex was a little surprised that... that he was telling the truth; that he _was_ looking forward to it. To dinner. To their... date?

Maybe.

Hopefully?

"Ok!" said Clark.

"Ok," said Lex. They held eye contact for a moment longer before Lex chose to be the one to finally turn away.

Clark watched him go, fully aware that his smile had turned sappy. It was only dinner, sure, but dinner with Lex... it was almost worth the plane ride!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flight duration was APPROXIMATELY something like five hours, seven minutes, if Metropolis is New York (which I guess it is in this fic since I've been watching a lot of 'Lois and Clark' recently.)


End file.
